Au Clair de la Lune
by Angelus Draco
Summary: Arianna Blakeney, 16 years old, orphaned and as the cousin of Percy Blakeney, she's the heiress to his wealth and estates. Despite an isolated life in rural Wales, she's wholly aware of Percy's secret identity, as well as - FULL SUMMARY INSIDE FROM CH 2 -
1. Prologue: Sad Tidings

**Disclaimer:**

**Welcome to my first fanfic in nearly four years.**

**Sadly, no matter how much I wish I did, I do not own the Scarlet Pimpernel; the books were created by the Baroness Emmuska Orczy and the 1982 movie (which partly inspired me, and directed by Clive Donner and starring the actors Julian Fellowes, Anthony Andrews, Jane Seymour and Sir Ian McKellen) belongs to that studio. Everyone else, is ©me.**

**I know neither the books nor movie are entirely historically accurate; Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI were not executed until 16****th**** of October and 21****st**** of January 1793 respectively and I'm a big lover of history and historical accuracy – I did my degree in it, but even I occasionally enjoy going off track; for the purposes of pleasure.**

**Anyway, please enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Prologue: Sad Tidings<strong>

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><p>The King and Queen of France had become the hapless prey to the voracious predator that was Madame Guillotine. The Dauphin was safe with his Austrian relatives; little consolation when he was now an orphan.<p>

In England, society continued as normal; the endless rounds of balls, tea parties, soirees and trips to the theatres whilst the men visited their clubs, mistresses and the races, though, all eyes were on France and the English lower classes – just as a precaution; especially as more French émigrés joined the ranks, spared from the vicious uncompromising guillotine by the brave and mysterious Scarlet Pimpernel and his loyal and equally mysterious league.

The Scarlet Pimpernel. Such a brave, ingenious figure, the women swooned and the men applauded...never knowing that the figure they admired so much was the one person, they enjoyed to ridicule for his foppish behaviour; Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet – richest man in England.

He and his wife, Marguerite Blakeney née St. Just, were the crème de la crème of society and were always in attendance, particularly as both were highly regarded friends of the Prince of Wales. The gossips had noticed that the tenseness that had existed beneath the Blakeneys had melted like the snow had in the spring and the husband would even deem to leave the card tables to partake with at least one dance with his beautiful wife.

However, they also noticed, with somewhat sadistic glee, that Lady Blakeney had not yet produced an heir to the vast Blakeney estates and there were private bets about how long it would be before even the foppish Baronet would divorce his barren wife for a more fertile one. Many society dames would gladly endure the fop that was Blakeney, for a taste of his wealth and status would give their families.

However, my dear Reader, London society was about to be interrupted by the arrival of an unknown Blakeney. And that, my readers, is where the story truly begins…

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><p>[Breakfast Room, Blakeney Manor, Richmond, London, England]<p>

The time was eighteen minutes past the eighth hour of the morning on the second day of October, in the year of our Lord 1793 – the 2nd year into the Reign of Terror and the bloodlust was continuing to surge in France; meaning more work for Percy and his loyal league.

Marguerite and Percy were sitting, breaking their fast. Percy was perusing the papers. If his movements seemed more careful than normal, that was due to his recent excursion with the League to France where he'd taken a bit of a beating.

Marguerite glanced at her husband. Sensing her eyes upon him, he raised his piercing blue orbs to hers and smiled.

"Lud, dear heart, stop worrying! Sink me! It'll take more than a thrashing by a couple of Revolutionary thugs to stop me!"

"Percy, I do wish you wouldn't be so flippant." Marguerite murmured. Percy dropped the mantle of the fop, and reached across and caressed her fingers.

"Trust me, my darling Margot, no matter what, I'll _always _return to you."

"I know that Percy, but it does not ease my anxiety to know that you, Armand and the rest of our friends in the League are always one step away from feeding that accursed guillotine."

Percy squeezed her hand and was about to speak again, when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," he called and Percy's valet, Chivers, entered a letter on the silver platter.

"Begging your pardon Sir, Madam, but a messenger has just arrived from the North-West with this letter. He assured me that it is urgent."

Chivers handed the letter over, bowed to his Lord and Lady and left the room, closing the mahogany door behind him.

* * *

><p>Marguerite and Percy exchanged looks before Percy turned his attention to the missive.<p>

He frowned, noticing that the sealing wax was black and the letter itself was edged with black ink. He broke the seal, unfolded the letter and read. His face turned pale.

"Percy, whatever is the matter?" Marguerite asked, her tone urgent with concern.

"My Uncle, Bartholomew has been found dead in the lake of his estate. My cousin Arianna is now my ward until she obtains her majority."

"Your Uncle? I thought you did not have any more family members Percy?" Marguerite, despite her best attempts, could not disguise her hurt. Percy smiled apologetically at her.

"Sink me! I might as well have; the way the situation fell! My Uncle retreated to his estate in a beautiful quiet part of Wales after the murder of my Aunt – they had resided there anyway – and he kept Arianna there; out of society's eye. I always attempted to make sure to see her; to assure myself that she was happy. She's an excellent horsewoman, bit of a free spirit and has the tendency to behave like a boy but she can be a lady quicker than you can blink." Percy's lips quirked into a wry, admiring smile as he thought of his young cousin. "She has had to; most people would not deal with her in regards to buying the horses they breed if she did not pretend to be male. It actually amazes me how easily people believe her."

"What is she like and how old is she?"

"Andrew always describes her as a female version of me – as you know me in private dear heart. In regards to her age, she is only six and ten."

"So young to be without her parents." Marguerite sighed, remembering her and Armand's youth without their parents and instantly feeling a kinship and love developing for the girl she had yet to meet. She glanced at husband. "She's very clever then?"

"Yes, and intensely gifted with animals; they immediately flock to her and she can soothe them with just a touch; she was there when your favourite mare, Daphne was born; soothed her mother who was greatly distressed. She is also His Highness' god-daughter. I will have to tell him that she is coming to live in London with us. He'll insist on her being escorted here." He glanced down at the missive and gave an ungallant snort of laughter.

"What is so amusing Percy?" Marguerite asked.

"Listen to this postscript, written by my precocious little cousin m'dear:

_Dearest Cousin Percy, I know there will probably be no force in all the heavens that can persuade you, my dear Uncle George and your devoted friends from ensuring my safety from Beddgelert, Gwynedd, Wales to your estate in Richmond but please, I beg, nay, __**urge**__ you, do not get too carried away as I am sure it will be more of a magnet to thieves. I have written a letter to send to Uncle George should he need assurances of this._

_Also, I don't want you playing dress up in order to escort me your good self – you are not in France rescuing poor aristocrats, my dear Scarlet Pimpernel._

_I shall see you anon Dearest Cousin along with my retinue of belongings, the horses and my assortment of pets (an indulgence from Papa). I look forward to meeting my new cousin, Marguerite. Yours in good faith and loyalty, Arianna Thérèse Blakeney._"

Marguerite gave an unladylike snort of laughter. "She knows you well my dearest."

"Hmmm, though, my concern for her welfare is understandable. Her dear Mama was murdered not far from the estate; she was on her way to visit us, accompanied but by two servants whilst my Uncle Bartholomew, Arianna and a few more servants not far behind but still." Percy tapped the letter against his hand, his face pensive. He glanced at Marguerite. "It will not bother you dearest to have my cousin join us? I know it is not something you expected but she is my kin and I cannot abandon her; my conscience and duty would not withstand it."

Marguerite smiled, rose to her feet and glided to her husband's side. She took Percy's hands, raised them to her lips and kissed them whilst he examined her out of hooded eyes.

"My dearest, nothing would give me greatest pleasure than welcoming your cousin to our household and our small family. We both survived our parentless childhoods; we can offer her the parental guidance she will need to navigate this world."

"Naturally and well said, m'dear. However, I am of the opinion that with Arianna in our lives, things shall never ever be boring!"

This remark from Percy, was, in the days to come, prove highly prophetic.

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><p><strong>September 2011<strong>

Well, probably not what most people were expecting me to churn out after a highly extended sabbatical but it's something…and hopefully not too bad – it only took me an hour and a half.

Combination of writer's block and real life are never a good combination but I'm hoping this is the start of something promising; i.e. making sure it stays gone for as long as possible! The main case has been the ideas have been there and I've written snippets down but nothing full bodied has come.

I'd like to thank Clio1792 for her PM in response to my favouriting one of her fics. My dear, I hope this satisfies you and I'd like to know what you think of my first endeavour in almost four years – I know I'm probably a little rusty but I hope the time away has seen my writing style mature.

I look forward to hearing your comments.

Love,

Angelus Draco

"_There's always a way to release what you feel. Let the creative energy flow and inspiration runs wild."_


	2. Chapter One: Suspicions Unveiled

**November 2011  
><strong>

**Sorry it's taken so long to get onto this chapter. I was doing a little bit of research into regions of France prior to the French Republic; it's to do with Arianna and her maternal side as I didn't want to pick a region of France that was constantly occupied by the same family pre-Revolution but I've hopefully found one that, according to my research, didn't really seem to stay with anyone much and was given out sporadically. That will hopefully be mentioned either next chapter or sometime soon.**

**Also, I've had some family matters arise that needed dealing with, emotionally, so that's why there's been such a delay as I needed to deal with that and I didn't want to give you a substandard product whilst I felt that rotten.**

**Alright, on with the story.  
><strong>

**Arianna Blakeney and anyone you don't recognise are ****of me; everyone else is ****of Emmuska Orczy  
><strong>

**Please enjoy**

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Suspicions Unveiled<strong>

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><p>Percy and Marguerite, as soon as breakfast was over, set to making arrangements for Arianna's arrival. Marguerite went off in search of Percy's housekeeper, the kindly formidable Mrs Davies and the butler, Worcester, to arrange which suite of rooms would be suitable for the youngest Blakeney. Percy meanwhile retreated to his study to compose several letters, including one to the Prince of Wales.<p>

He took up his seat and rested his elbows on the smooth wood, steepling his fingers, his forehead creased in thought. He hadn't told Marguerite about another post-script further down Arianna's letter.

He took it out again and read it.

_P.P.S. Percy, forgive the inappropriate nature of a second postscript. I realise that it is not perfect letter etiquette but I feel you deserve to know._

_I do not think Papa's death was accident or suicide; I think it was murder. He has not been to the lake, willingly since Mama's death; even I could not persuade him to venture to the water's edge. He also __**did not**__ drink; he poured all of it out when we returned home after the funeral and was ruthless when it came to dismissing people who were found with or carried the smell of alcohol on their breath._

_There had been some people lurking around the estate recently – all of them were seen off by the staff but the episode was enough to make Papa suspicious and to order that I was not allowed to ride without an escort of three employees and the dogs._

_I also believe, with the good Lord as my witness, that whoever murdered Papa was responsible for Mama's murder as well. They, whoever they may be, must be under the misguided impression that with the parental influence out of the way, I will be a sitting target; not comprehending that in fact they still have to deal with you and Uncle George._

_I understand that is not a pleasant thought; it makes my stomach churn but Percy, my dear sweet cousin, what other motive could there be?_

_All my love,_

_Arianna_

_xxx_

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><p>Percy took a moment to think.<p>

He knew his Uncle had become teetotal, to the amusement and shock of the _ton_, though Percy and the Prince of Wales had understood why. Guilt could be an all consuming emotion and Bartholomew had been overwhelmed with it – all due to his own conceived ideas surrounding the death of Arianna's mother.

Arianna's mother, Annette, had ridden on ahead because Bartholomew had imbibed a little too much red wine the night before and had been a devil to wake up and thus, Bartholomew believed that drink and his foolishness had helped his wife's murder.

Furthermore, Percy believed Arianna's assumptions had some merit; an orphaned heiress was seen as an easy and tempting target. Despite not inheriting any wealth from his grandfather, his Uncle had been given a profitable estate and in turn had married a wealthy heiress; an heiress who in turn had helped to turn an already successful stud farm to a formidable one. The stud-farm was so successful that monarchs were eager to own one of the horses, or pay a vast fortune to stud their mares at the stables in the hopes of producing a grand horse. With both her parents dead, Arianna inherited everything – regardless that it would be held in trust for her until she was one and twenty.

Percy sat up and reached for quill and parchment; he decided that he needed to discuss this matter with the Prince of Wales in person and it was imperative to do so before making firm arrangements to bring Arianna to London.

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><p>George Augustus Frederick, Prince of Wales and heir to the throne of England, Wales, Scotland and Ireland sat behind the desk of his study in Carlton House, his fingers steeped and his forehead narrowed in thought. Percy stood before him. His letter had been delivered at break neck speed and the Prince had summoned his favourite to see him instantly.<p>

"You believe her?" he asked finally, raising his head to fix Percy with a piercing stare.

"I have no reason to doubt her Your Highness. She has valid points; my Uncle abhorred drink following Aunt Annette's death – I am certain you recall how he banned it at her wake: Also when I visited the estate, albeit not very regularly, I would only ever see my Uncle standing at the window of the Viewing Room.

She is not one of the flighty young things that you see at the balls and garden parties; partly because she has been running things at the estate since my Aunt's death and my Uncle's descent into grief therefore, she has a well exercised mind and a keen intelligence."

Percy gave a modest shrug of his broad shoulders.

"I was kept aware of what was happening – financially and other things; mainly to do with the reclusive nature of my Uncle as his doctor was expressing grave concerns over the pallid nature of his skin. As I'm sure you may recall, Uncle Bartholomew was inconsolable following Aunt Annette's wake. It was all Ari could do to encourage him to take a sedate walk around the gardens with her."

"Personality wise, she is very like Marguerite," the Prince of Wales observed drily. "Vastly determined, courageous and intelligent into the bargain." Clarified the Prince at Percy's faintly questioning look.

"Remarkably Sire." Agreed Percy.

The Prince of Wales, normally the life and soul of the _ton_, was thoughtful; absorbing everything Percy had imparted to him.

"What do you need from me Percy?" he said finally.

"I want to give Arianna some security Sire," Percy stated slowly. "I believe my Aunt and Uncle's murderer is a part of our ranks and I desire to root them out. Something I'm sure that Arianna will gladly assist with. She might not have conveyed it but she possesses her own suspicions about who may be responsible.

Many people to do not pay attention to a child but a child sees everything and you always said she has an uncanny ability to judge people as soon as she meets them. She always used to say to Andrew and myself that there used to be a lot of courtesy displayed around her whilst you, my father, her own father and mother were present due to her position as your godchild but as soon as they were absent, she was ignored. People watching, as she calls it, became a hobby and a hobby that has come to serve her well when it comes to employing people and seeing them for what they are."

"What is the plan for moving her and her menagerie?"

"The horses will be split into groups and will set off at different days and take different routes to reach my Richmond estate; Arianna has already arranged that. I will arrange a route for her to follow in an enclosed carriage. I have also instructed that she keeps two of the more intimidating canines close at hand. Her governess (of whom she has a low opinion of) will accompany her within the carriage which will be driven by two of the servants who have been with my Uncle since before his marriage to Annette."

The Prince nodded slowly.

"It sounds to me that all eventualities are covered Percy. I want her here safely as much as you do. Letters are only so enlightening; it will be an honour and a delight to see how she has matured."

"And of the perpetrator for these heinous crimes against my kin?"

"We will uncover the vile fiend first and then, we will have to follow the law in how they are dealt with – no matter how we and Arianna feel they should be punished for the emotional damage they have forced her to endure."

"Yes Sir."

"Get her here safely Percy," the Prince said softly.

"Oh believe me Sir, I have every intention that she arrives safely. However, I believe that she will make sure she reaches London safely herself."

With that cryptic remark, Percy bowed low to the Prince of the kingdom and left; leaving the Prince of Wales slightly confused – and slightly amused.

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><p><strong>November 2011<strong>  
>Sorry if it seems a little shorter than the previous chapter; it probably is by 200 words or so but I wanted to see the scene up for how Arianna is a little unorthodox and I thought that would deserve a little chapter of its own but I wanted you to see that Percy respects his cousin's judgement and in turn, so does the Prince Regent.<p>

I look forward to seeing what people make of this.

Love,

Angelus Draco

"_There's always a way to release what you feel. Let the creative energy flow and inspiration runs wild."_


	3. Chapter Two: Delays, The Preparations Co

**August 2012**

I most sincerely have to apologise to my readers for the delay with this next chapter – however, as much as I would love to submerge myself all the time in my writing, real life takes precedence (unfortunately).

So, Christmas and work, etc came ahead. Also, I was trying to get Arianna's governess right – I drafted her out so many times on paper or mused over her in my head but each time I kept getting frustrated with her so, I took the decision to take a step back from my writing and have a think about it, which wasn't happening very well as I was too focussed on it. Unfortunately, I needed more time then I imagined.

I sincerely hope it pays off.

Furthermore, having been made redundant on the 30th March 2012, I have been spending time job hunting so writing has also been secondary in my concerns.

Then, my Muse decided to go on strike until fairly recently and trying to force myself to write means things often don't turn out the way I'd like so, I took even more time out – until she reared her head again.

I do not own The Scarlet Pimpernel and its characters. I do, however, claim everybody else as mine.

Now, on with our story.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Delays, The Preparations Continue and The Mysterious Little Belle<strong>

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><p>A black coach, gilded with gold and silver, and pulled by six large handsome white stallions lumbered its way through the endless expanse of beauty that was the Welsh countryside. Inside the coach, the atmosphere was tense as two humans and two dogs were together in the close confines and had been for some period of time.<p>

A guttural grunt made two sets of chocolate brown eyes shoot towards the figure causing the noise and low growls to erupt from both throats, bearing sharp yellowed teeth. The two dogs looked like they would be more than happy to rip the noise maker to pieces.

Through the gloom, a small-slender fingered hand reached down and tousled both heads, instantly soothing them. The dogs turned their eyes to their mistress.

"Everything will be fine my sweet boys." Piercing blue eyes shot through the gloom to the other occupant – also female but considerably older than the other, and narrowed. "And the sooner we get to London and get rid of her, the better. I just hope Percy and Uncle George have hired someone who is not a complete and utter windbag!"

Sighing, she moved the curtain of the carriage aside so she could look at the rolling greenery that she would be leaving. She mentally calculated where she would be and sighed, realizing that they were a scant five miles from Oswestry – part of the border with England. She shifted; they had been in the coach for about seventeen hours as it was and there were fifty-eight hours of the trip left, excluding the two hour breaks her horses would need every twenty miles.

"Hwyl fawr Cymru; y wlad fy nghalon," she whispered. "Rwy'n gobetithio gweld chi eto efallai un diwrnod." (1)

She glared at the snores emanating from her governess and caressed the largest of her dogs, Pendragon. "Tyngaf I Dduw Pendragon, Afon; os bydd yn parhau â hynny sŵn byddaf yn gwthio hi allan o'r cerbyd!" (2)

The dogs, both Irish Wolfhounds, gave a snort that seemed to agree with their mistress. Suddenly, the coach jarred, startling the older woman awake.

"Ce qui est cet imbécile de faire?" she spat. "Il aurait pu me tuer!" (3)

"Highly unlikely," the younger female muttered under her breath. Louder, she soothed. "Calmez-vous ma chéri governante, je vais aller voir la nature du problème. Je suis sûr qu'il ya une explication raisonnable."(4)

"Arianna, vous ne devez pas! Il est civilise là-bas pour une dame de votre rang!" (5)

Before Arianna could utter a retort, a masculine voice shouted:

"Stand and deliver! Your money or your life! Hand over everything; and that goes for whoever is in the carriage."

Arianna heaved a sigh, hoisted her skirts and opened the carriage door.

"Pendragon, Afon, stay," she ordered. Obediently, the dogs took up positions between the door and Arianna's governess. Once she was satisfied that they were in position, she opened the door and emerged into the sunlight.

* * *

><p>Six unkempt looking men on sturdy Welsh Cobs, all either black, bay or a deep rich brown and a most impressive display of horse flesh, surrounded the front of the carriage – thus blocking the way and impeding their passage.<p>

They had not noticed that Arianna had emerged into the morning sunlight; too intent on terrorising Dwaine, the elderly groom who had been with her parents two years prior to her own arrival into this world and who was driving them. A whimper caused Arianna's piercing blue eyes to shift to the younger groom, Gwaine, who was clutching his shoulder.

Arianna's eyes narrowed as the blood surged through her veins.

She carefully reached her hands up to the hidden box under to which the lamp was attached and extracted the flintlock pistol that was hidden within before she stealthily hid in the folds of her gown before she made her presence known.

"What is the meaning of this?!" she spat, the indignant aristocrat to a tee. "I will let you know Sirs that I am on my way to my cousin and godfather in London and they do not appreciate tardiness. Furthermore, should anything befall me or my servants, I can assure you that you will most definitely swing."

"Ho, ho, ho! Look at this one boys; a right feisty little Miss Hoity Toity." The leader jeered, looking over his shoulder at his gang members, who chortled. The leader turned back to Arianna, who glared furiously. "Now, give us yer jewels Wench!"

"Not today I will not!" she hissed as she extracted the flintlock pistol and aimed. The leader snorted.

"As if you can shoot little Miss Hoity Toity. You couldn't hit a…AHHH!" he screamed in pain as the lead ball hit his clavicle, shattering it.

"Oh bother, I missed." Arianna's sarcastic tone turned the thief's eyes to stare at her in astonishment. "I was aiming for your heart." Arianna's voice was as cold as ice, her eyes equally frosty as the men stared at her.

Her lips twitched but there was little warmth in her voice as she drawled. "I suggest my dear gentlemen that you get your friend to the surgeon as quick as possible before he bleeds to death and find some more, legal methods of earning your living."

Terrified of the fiery young woman, the men turned their horses and fled. Arianna waited until they were out of sight, before turning to her two servants.

"Dwaine, Gwaine, are you alright?"

"Yes Miss," Gwaine panted. Arianna raised her eyebrow.

"I do not quite believe you Gwaine and we are not continuing until that shoulder is treated. Besides, the horses can have a quick rest now and then can have their two hour rest when we cross the border."

"The Battle Axe will not like that Miss Arianna and Lord Blakeney will not be amused if you are late." Dwaine pointed out, referring to Arianna's governess, Blanche Chervard.

"Percy will understand and Blanche will have to do as I say; the last time I checked, I was the employer in this relationship – not her. Now, come down here Gwaine and bring the medicine box – I am bandaging that shoulder before we continue."

Gwaine and Dwaine looked at each other and grinned.

Arianna was a Blakeney and no one argued with a Blakeney.

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><p>They pulled into The Swan Inn in Oswestry just over an hour later. The stable lads rushed out to take the leading pair of horses by their bridles whilst the innkeeper and his wife hurried out. The lady of the inn curtsied as Arianna dismounted the carriage behind her governess, Afon and Pendragon loyally at her side.<p>

"Lady Arianna, it is a pleasure to have you here with us."

"Thank you."

"We have set aside a room for yours and your companion's comfort Miss. Your grooms can dine in comfort as well should they wish." The chatelaine of the inn glanced at the dogs standing close to their mistress. "Your dogs of course are welcome to join you too Miss."

"I thank you Madam. Dwaine, can you pass me my writing slope down please."

Dwaine nodded and handed a wooden box down. The innkeeper hurried to take it.

"I shall be glad of a rest." Blanche remarked, as she swept imperiously into the inn.

Behind her, Arianna rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth in a completely unladylike manner. She was increasingly looking forward to her arrival in London, if only in the sense it meant she could escape this cantankerous woman who was unbelievably old fashioned.

* * *

><p>Arianna was left alone in the private room whilst her governess went to harass the grooms regarding the care of the coach.<p>

She pulled out a page of parchment and a quill pen and began to write a letter to her cousin.

She scratched her neck before she dipped her quill in ink and began:

_Dearest Percy, I pray forgive me. I fear that we may be delayed by a day or so. We had an unfortunate delay on the road to Oswestry. I hasten to assure yourself and my Gracious Uncle that my health is not in any question and that I am safe. I assure you that I will impart the tale to you when I reach Richmond.  
>I hope my beloved menagerie has arrived safely. Please ignore George if he starts singing sea shanties; it was his previous owner's profession as a sea captain that taught him such abhorrent behaviour, although, he does tend to be a good boy when I am present. I hasten to assure your staff and your tenants, that my wolves are no danger to any of their livestock or lives: I reared them since they were little and were suckling milk. Leave them with the rest of the dogs; two of which acted as their surrogate mothers and there will be no trouble.<br>The little girl who delivers this message: will you keep her safe. I will explain everything to you when I see you.  
>I look forward to meeting Marguerite and seeing you again my beloved Cousin. I will see you anon. Love, Arianna x<em>

She held a blue candle over the flame and rubbed it on the flap, before slipping her signet ring off, blowing on it and pressing it hard into the wax. One of the maids entered just as she took a small sip of wine.

"The mistress hopes you enjoyed the meal milady."

"Yes Daisy, it was most satisfactory. Before you leave Daisy, is the mail coach due soon?"

"In the next five minutes Miss."

"Thank you. I wish to have a letter delivered to London."

Both young women turned as they heard the rumbling of coach wheels on the cobbled surface outside.

"That sounds like it now Miss Arianna."

"Thank you." Arianna opened her purse and slipped two guineas out and into Daisy's hand. "For your kind assistance."

"Thank you Miss!" she exclaimed.

Arianna smiled before she hastened outside.

* * *

><p>Arianna entered the courtyard whilst the mail coach had their horses changed.<p>

She approached the coach.

"My good sirs, I hope you have found your journey pleasant thus far."

Both the driver and the two guards hastily removed their hats.

"It has been remarkably pleasant Miss..."

"My name, my gentlemen, is Arianna Blakeney. I was wondering Sirs, do you have any stops near Blakeney Mansion in Richmond."

"We stop at The Ostrich and The Lion, which I believe is only a mile and a half from the Blakeney Mansion if I correctly recall Miss."

"May I request a favour? Could you have a member of the staff deliver this letter to Sir Percy Blakeney?"

"Well..." the driver hesitated.

Arianna withdrew some guineas from her purse. "My dear Sirs, this letter is of the utmost importance; Sir Percy Blakeney is my cousin and he will need to inform my godfather, the Prince of Wales of my delay. I know you prefer them in bags but this is important, therefore, I will give five guineas to each of you and five to the member of staff who will deliver the letter to my cousin. I believe there was a young girl called Belle. I want her to deliver the letter to my cousin."

The driver stared into Arianna's serious eyes.

"As you wish Miss."

"Thank you." She handed the letter to the driver and a purse. She then turned to the horses and cupped their noses. "Swift speed my dear ones. And to you my good sirs."

Just then, Dwaine ran out of the stables. "Miss Arianna, could you come and have words with Raphael. He's being uncooperative."

Arianna chuckled. She dipped her head to the mail coach and its occupants who stared at the young woman in awe; the youngest member of the Blakeney family was something of an enigma.

"Raphael is a superb horse but he does tend to be a bit of a baby; having been rejected by his mother he has regarded me as his mother and therefore, only listens to me. I wish all of you a pleasant journey."

She turned on her heel and swept off towards the stables, Dwaine hastily following his mistress.

* * *

><p>[Richmond]<p>

It was another day of hectic activity at Blakeney Manor as preparations continued for the arrival of Arianna. The extension to the stable block was underway; some of Arianna's horses were cohabiting with Percy's and Percy's tenants had displayed their loyalty to the Blakeneys by agreeing to tenant the horses.

Arianna's cats, which numbered six, were residing in the kitchen. The dogs, who Percy recalled from previous conversations with his cousin had minds of their own, would vary between the house itself – joining the cats in the kitchen though, they also enjoyed sleeping on the landings – or the stables where they could guard the horses. Percy had noticed with some amusement that the Cavalier Spaniels preferred inside. The four male wolves all tended to accompany the dogs wherever they deemed to sleep.

Marguerite, alongside the formidable housekeeper, was supervising the cleaning of Arianna's suite, which included throwing open the windows to allow the fresh air to circulate throughout her bedroom and dressing room.

"I believe we may have to purchase some new bedding Lady Blakeney." Mrs Davies observed.

"I fear you may be right Mrs Davies but I believe we should wait until Arianna arrives so she may choose what she wants."

"An excellent plan Ma'am."

There was a knock on the door and Percy entered the room.

"My dearest Marguerite, will you join me for some tea?"

"I would be delighted milord," teased Marguerite.

"I will continue this Ma'am." Mrs Davies assured Marguerite who nodded.

* * *

><p>The mail coach pulled into the courtyard of The Ostrich and The Lion two hours later.<p>

The innkeeper looked up as the driver jumped from his box.

"Have you got a lass here called Belle?"

"Yeah; twelve year old little thing. Why?"

"A young lady asked that this missive be delivered to Blakeney Mansion by this little Belle. And only by her."

"What she look like this lady?"

"Blonde hair and blue eyes. Said she was Arianna Blakeney. Spoke to the horses; damn if they did not move quicker once she spoke to them."

"That'll be Miss Arianna alright. She's the local lord's cousin. Coming to live here if the rumours are anything to go by."

A sturdy-looking woman, with black straggly hair and cruel black eyes came out of the inn; an unpleasant woman by all counts. In her hand, she carried a riding crop.

"What's happenin' here then?"

"Little Belle needs to deliver a message to the Blakeneys at the request of Miss Arianna."

The woman gave a cruel smirk before yelling:

"BELLE! Get out here you miserable little grub!"

A small, flaxen haired girl appeared and the mail coach staff and occupants, who were out stretching their legs, soon realised why Arianna had insisted on this little child. There was some stiffening of backs as the woman grabbed the little girl, who was twelve years old.

"You take the letter from the mail coach driver and take the letter to the Blakeneys and get straight back here. You dawdle and I will tan your hide until you cannot sit for a week!"

"Yes Miss," chirruped the frightened little girl.

"We'll give the wee thing a lift to the mansion," the driver announced.

"Very well," growled the woman before she stomped back in and slammed the door, leaving the child shivering. The innkeeper glared after her.

"If I could figure a way to get rid of my sister, I would." He growled as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it round the little girl's shoulders.

The driver nodded before picking the young girl up and lifting her onto the box seat. He nodded to the innkeeper before he picked up the reins and spurred the horses on.

* * *

><p>Chivers was standing on the doorstep, supervising the beating of the rugs for Mrs Davies when the mail coach pulled up outside and the driver got down, and lifted the little girl down. He doffed his hat.<p>

"Good day Sir. Is the Master of the House in?"

"Yes. As is the Mistress."

"This little lady has a message for the Master of the House. She was requested by Miss Arianna especially."

Chivers nodded, looking at the little girl, recalling from the mists of time when an indignant Arianna had raged at Percy that this particular little girl had been singled out especially by the harridan sister of the noble innkeeper of the Ostrich and The Lion. The driver nodded to him and then bent down to the little girl and handed her the purse.

"There is fourteen guineas in there for you little one. My friends and I were paid five guineas each by the Master's cousin but we think you deserve a bigger share."

"She'll take it from me!" protested the small girl.

The men exchanged looks.

"I will mention it to Sir Percy." Chivers reported. The driver nodded and remounted his seat before urging the horses into a trot. Chivers smiled kindly down at the little girl.

"Come with me young one." With a shaking hand, Belle put her hand in Chivers' and allowed him to lead her into this huge house.

* * *

><p>Percy and Marguerite were concluding their tea in the library when Chivers entered the room with Belle.<p>

"Sir, this little lady has a letter from the mail coach from Miss Arianna."

Chivers ushered the timid twelve year old girl into the library. The Blakeneys smiled and Marguerite rose from her chair, glided over to the little girl and crouched down.

"What would your name be little one?"

"Miserable little grub is what the Mistress calls me."

"What is your actual one dear heart?"

"Belle."

"And your last name?" Percy asked.

"I cannot remember Sir." Percy tapped his eye glass against his lips and smiled genially at the little girl.

"It does not matter little one. Now, may I have this letter?"

"Whilst you read your letter Percy, I shall take this little lady down to Mrs Baxter and see if we have any of those tasty almond tarts left."

"Capital idea m'dear."

"Thank you Chivers, I shall take her down myself. And then could you have the coach prepared. I think I require a word with the owners of this establishment."

"Certainly madam."

"M'dear, do I take it we are taking on a new member of staff regardless of what this letter says?" Percy remarked drily.

"Do you have any objections Percy?"

"Of course not my darling." Percy chuckled. "I would not dream of it."

Marguerite dipped her head and led the young child out, leaving Percy to his letter.

* * *

><p>A scant twenty minutes later, Belle was safely in the kitchen, making a fuss of the cats and being mothered by Mrs Baxter whilst the younger girls warmed some water to allow the child to have a bath.<p>

Marguerite was in their small coach, accompanied at Percy's insistence, by two footmen (as opposed to their usual one) and one of Arianna's male Irish Wolfhounds, one of her male deerhounds and one of her male wolves.

The coach pulled up at the inn within ten minutes and the innkeeper emerged into the cobbled stable yard and gasped as a stern-faced Marguerite emerged.

"Lady Blakeney, it is an honour to see you."

"Hmm. I would be grateful if someone could bring Belle's belongings to me."

"May I ask why Your Ladyship?"

Marguerite brushed an imaginary piece of lint from the delicate pink silk of her day-dress before turning her attention to the question she had been asked:

"My husband's cousin, Arianna, is coming to live with us and will require at least two ladies maids. One of the girls we had in mind has had to leave our service temporarily due to a family bereavement and we feel, having given the matter some additional thought, it might be prudent to have her ladies maids being either side of her in age. Furthermore, Arianna requested Belle to deliver that letter."

"But of..."

"WHAT'S GOING ON OUT HERE?!" demanded the harridan sister.

"Lady Blakeney wants Belle's belongings."

"Oh really?" sneered the sister. Marguerite gritted her teeth in an unladylike fashion before tapping the door of the coach. The three canids emerged, teeth bared.

"You either give me her belongings willingly or…" Marguerite tilted her head towards the growling animals. "Face their wrath. Not to mention the local justice will hear how the child has been severely beaten." Marguerite glared. "Her belongings, now!"

"B..." the sister began.

"Do it now Ethel," snarled the innkeeper. "No wonder so many servants have left if you do that!"

Marguerite smirked. Something told her that she was getting her way in this matter. Whilst she waited as the innkeeper shoved his sister in front of him to reclaim Belle's meagre belongings, Marguerite frowned.

She could not help but wonder…what did Arianna know about Belle.

* * *

><p><strong>August 2012<br>**I heartily apologise for the delay in getting this chapter to you. I have explained my reasons. Thankfully, I found some rather creative ways to encourage my Muse from her slumber.

The translations for the bracketed numbers are below. I did use Google Translate so I apologise if there is anything wrong. Chapter Three is partially constructed already as this chapter was originally longer and Arianna was meant to arrive in this chapter but I decided that it might be more prudent to split this up. I hope you understand the logic for my decision.

Love,

Angelus Draco

**Translations:**

(1) Goodbye Wales; the land of my heart. I hope to see you again one day perhaps.

(2) I swear to God Pendragon, Afon; if she continues with that noise I will shove her out of this carriage!

(3) What is that imbecile doing? He could have killed me!

(4) Calm yourself my darling governess; I will go and see what the issue is. I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation.

(5) Arianna, you must not! It is uncivilised out there for a lady of your standing!


End file.
